Cold Comfort
by scarylolita
Summary: When Kenny finds a journal in an empty classroom, he decides to take it home. After reading about the dreary life of an anonymous stranger, Kenny is determined to find out who the journal belongs to and ultimately protect them from the dangerous cycle they're stuck in. Slash.


**South Park © Matt & Trey.**

 **This was supposed to be short, but then it was long. Story of my life lol. I have too many same-flavor Craig-centric 1shots that need to be posted, hope you guys don't get too bored lol.**

 **Also go vote on my poll on my profile.**

 **Kenny's POV again~**

* * *

 **1.**

Yeah, I know. You don't even have to tell me. What I did was pretty shitty, but I couldn't help it. I don't have enough self-control to just pass up this kind of opportunity. I'm a nosy little shit-face.

I just got out of detention. Friday detentions are the worst, let me tell you. Since they like us to be productive while we're being punished, I got to clean the English classroom. On the floor in the back of the room I found the simple, coiled scribbler.

So now here I am with a journal that doesn't belong to me. What kind of asshole steals someone's diary? I'm sixteen, for fuck's sake. I'm acting like a twelve year old panty-sniffer on a candy high.

I haven't opened it yet. I don't even know whose journal it is.

I stuff the book in my bag and run home like I just won the god damn lottery. When I arrive, I spare greetings and head straight to my room. If I had a working door, I'd lock it… but alas. I sit on my bed – a mattress on the floor – and dig the book out. I hold it in my hands, staring at the cover. No name. No writing at all, but it looks a little worn – like it's been treated roughly. I press my lips together and slowly open to the first page.

Inside, the words are written in tiny, narrow cursive. I wish I had Kyle's mind – I could easily analyse meaning in the way someone loops their L's, dots their I's and crosses their T's. Oh, well. I feel like I should be incredibly guilty about doing this, but I don't. Then again, maybe I will when I'm finished. Nonetheless, I begin to read –

 _July 07_

 _The bed sheets were so messy with blood and cum there was no way they'd ever come clean. So, I threw them away. My mom found them in the trash bin and took them out. She saw the stains. She stared at me. She didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what she might've been thinking – probably something bad, though. Probably something bad about me. So I asked her, "What are you thinking?" She forced a smile and faltered fast, unable to keep up the façade. Funny. I've been trying to get her attention for a while now. This is what it took. A little blood on my bed sheets. A little cum. But for some reason I wasn't embarrassed. I said, "The blood was mine." She said she knew and she asked, "What about the other stains?" I told her some of it was mine. She asked me if I was okay and I told her I was fine. I am fine, strange as it sounds. It hurt a lot. It hurt so bad I thought I was gonna die, but when all was said and done I didn't mind that it hurt. I didn't mind that Jason didn't care. I didn't care, either. We were both using each other. He drank a lot and I drank a lot and we fucked raw and nasty. I got so drunk I didn't feel the burn until it was over. He got so drunk it took him forever to cum. When it was done, I closed my eyes and let the afterimages sink in. I lied still until they faded away and then I sat up. Jason started pacing and cursing. I told him to shut the fuck up. I took a shower. When I returned, he was lying on my bloody bedsheets, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't say a word and neither did I. Maybe it's stupid to write this kind of shit down, but there's no way I could ever say the words out loud. God help me, but at least my mom loves me again._

Jesus Christ! This is some heavy shit. I want to force myself to stop reading because these kinds of dirty secrets are none of my business… but I can't. I live for this kind of shit. So, I keep reading.

 _July 26_

 _I masturbate and think about Jason fucking me because it's the only sex I've ever had. When I'm done, I realize how disgusting it is. What the fuck's wrong with me? I must be some kind of sick pervert._

 _August 18_

 _I'm no good at social events and they always end up the same way, especially as of late. I will try hard to laugh at the right time, accept the compliments I get, smile politely, make the appropriate eye contact, and try not to show how nervous I am. At some point throughout the night, I'll excuse myself and skip off to the bathroom because these social events are a lot harder than they look. I'll pop a few anti-anxiety pills and wait. I'll try not to think about what I'm doing, and I'll try to hold back any tears. I'll take a breath and allow myself to feel something good instead. I'll check myself in the mirror before walking out of the room, and when I do I'll feel like everyone is staring at me. I'll just clear my throat, smile nervously and try to find my friends. They will give me disappointed looks, because they know. They always know. Bebe will frown and Clyde will shake his head, but it's okay. I'll talk more easily with everyone now. I'll smile more confidently, speak with an ease that wasn't there before. I won't even have to remind myself to do these things. However, Jason will be there too. He's always there. He'll put a hand on my back, lowering it until it's somewhere it shouldn't be. I'll be there trying to hold it together while he touches me in front of all these people like it's some kind of joke. The other kids laugh and Jason plays it off like a game. None of them know it's more than that. I'll try to play the part, but I can't. I'll turn to everyone and politely excuse myself again. I'll run back into the bathroom and stay there for the rest of the night until my friends come to get me. Bebe will walk me back out into the crowd and she will shoot Jason a look – a look that says, "I know what you're doing, so stop it." But he won't care, he never does. He'll take it as a challenge, and you know what the sickest part of it all is? When I'm back home, and I'm alone and undressing in front of the mirror, I'll wish he was there. It doesn't matter that he's not a solid guy. It doesn't matter that he's a little twisted – I'll want him to cover my mouth and bend me over anyway because shit, I guess I'm just that fucked up kind of person. We haven't fucked since but I think about it a lot and I think he knows that and this is why he plays those fucking games._

 _September 12_

 _I haven't been alone with Jason since our drinking night in July. I'm so gross. It's like I'm craving his attention. I want nothing more than for him to get me alone and fuck me really hard. He won't talk to me, though. He just gives me these taunting smiles. It's like he's so fucking proud of unraveling me so easily. I used to think I was such a badass. Now I know I'm just a bitch – Jason's bitch. Maybe I need to be the one to make the next move._

 _November 9_

 _I did._

 _December 4_

 _My dad walked in on me taking it up the ass. I couldn't even finish, but Jason did. When I went downstairs later, my dad's face was red with anger. Jason made a quick getaway. I don't blame him. I'm such a cliché. My dad – a former drunk – used to come into my room at night with his breath smelling like whatever liquor he had that night. His drink of choice depended on his mood. Good nights were vodka. Bad nights were rum. We don't talk about it. He's sober now and maybe he doesn't remember ever beating me up, but I remember it perfectly. Now I'm a head case – like one of those girls you see on TV with daddy issues. But it's not their fault, is it? It's the parents. I never used to get that. I used to just shrug it off. I can't do that anymore because it's me._

 _December 26_

 _I really hate this time of year. I hate Christmas. I hate ringing in the New Year. I hate celebrations. I hate my father. I hate how hard he has to try not to drink when all his buddies come over. I hate how fake my mother's smiles get around this time of year, but I don't blame her. Everything is messy. Jason came over yesterday night. His family situation is as whacked out as mine is – if not worse. Jason's dad is a drug addict. One time he was so high he thought I was his wife and he tried to feel me up, but all he got was a handful of a flat chest. Jason was embarrassed, but he just laughed at me and said it was a joke. I didn't think it was a very funny one. But hey, like father like son._

 _January 1_

 _Happy fucking New Year._

 _January 7_

 _Here I am trying to dull my own fear – trying hard to trust. I get very wary about being alive. I drink too much. I take drugs. I do things I shouldn't be doing in an attempt to keep my mind safe. Or rather – "safe"._

 _January 15_

 _My birthday is at the end of the month and I'm dreading it.  
I hate birthdays. I hate celebration. I hate attention. _

By the time I'm finished reading I feel guilty and really concerned. I also feel determined and my hero complex is nagging me. The idea of this happening to someone I may or may not know is making me a little nauseous. It's strange. The private lives of people can be so awful. People are pretty good at putting on masks and pretending everything is dandy. I've done it myself countless times. In fact, one could say it's a talent of mine.

* * *

The following day at school I decide to question Bebe, since she hangs around with Jason's crew. "Do you know who Jason is dating?" I ask. I already know she knows. Bebe is a gossip. She knows everything about everyone.

We're on our free now. We always spend free period together in the library. We're on our laptops. We're supposed to be doing homework but we're not. She's on Tumblr, clicking and scrolling. I'm on Imgur, wasting time.

Bebe gives me an unsure look. "He's not exactly _dating_ anyone. It's more of a sex thing… but I don't think I'm supposed to say."

"Why not?" I pry, letting out a long whine.

"Because it's weird and I'm not even supposed to know," she explains, crossing her arms. "The only reason I found out is because I was at the wrong place at the right time."

I raise an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She sighs, wrinkling her nose. "I caught them hooking up. They made me swear not to tell a soul… so I haven't."

"What if this person in trouble?" I urge.

Bebe gives me a piteous smile. "You're sweet, Kenny," she says. "What makes you think all of this?"

"Fuck it," I mutter. "I found someone's journal. I read 'cause I'm a nosy shit-head and now I'm concerned. Whoever they are, they're with Jason and it sounds terrible."

"It's not a girl, by the way."

"Yeah, I know… the entries were more than clear about that," I admit, whipping out my phone. Since I have most of the school on my Facebook friends list, I decide to check there instead. Let's see… Who has a birthday at the end of January? I scroll and scroll until seeing –

Craig Tucker. January 25.

Wow.

He's literally the last person I expected. He walks around like he's so fucking cool. I can't picture this side of him, but I guess that's why he hides it. It makes him feel weak and permissive.

"It's Craig, isn't it?" I ask, looking up at her.

She looks conflicted before letting out a relenting sigh. "Fine, yes…" she pauses. "If he finds out I told you, he'll give me the worst silent treatment of my life. Too many people already know and Craig doesn't want it spreading to the entire world... though Jason seems to think it's hilarious to tell people."

She was probably dying to tell me anyway. We all know she can't keep a damn secret.

"It won't," I promise. "Is he in class now?"

"He's supposed to be," she says.

I snort at that. Craig is a notorious class skipper. That's why he spends so much time in the guidance office. He has behavioural problems. He always has. I guess I kind of get why now. "Is he free after school?"

"Kenny," she groans my name with blatant exasperation. "Please _don't_ confront him about this. You don't even know him."

"Sure I do!" I insist. "I've spent lots of time with him throughout the years."

She scoffs. "Trust me, Ken. You don't know him the way I do. You don't want to open this bag of worms. He will absolutely flip."

I wave a dismissive hand. "What's he doing after school?"

"Craig has band practise with Kyle, Wendy, Nichole and Kevin," Bebe says.

"He's in band?" I question. For some reason, it's hard to imagine Craig doing after school activities – especially one like band.

She nods slowly. "He plays the flute."

"Hm," I muse. "That's kind of cute."

She rolls her eyes at me. "Don't get any ideas. Seriously. There are times you should just let things be. Do _not_ intervene."

"All right," I say.

"I mean it!" She sounds shrill.

"All right, _jeez_!" I repeat in exclamation.

Ah, we both know I'm lyin'.

* * *

After school, I spot Kyle with his violin. He's in band, too. He's probably on his way there now.

"Hey, Kyle," I say, patting him on the shoulder. "You're in band with Craig, right?" I ask when he turns around.

"Yeah," he responds with a nod. "Why?"

"What do you think of him?" I wonder.

Kyle shrugs his shoulders. "He's kind of quiet, I guess."

"Quiet? Like socially retarded?"

Kyle rolls his eyes at me. "No, dick. He just doesn't say a lot. Plus, it doesn't take a genius to also see that he's moody."

"Yeah, no shit," I snort.

"Hey, you should come watch," he invites.

"Can I?"

"Yeah, of course," he says. "Stan comes to watch all the time."

"Of course he does," I say with a smirk.

"Shut up," Kyle nudges me.

"So, is it true that kids in band are super horny?"

Kyle scoffs, rolling his eyes at me again. "I don't know, Kenny."

I chortle, but I don't ask any more questions. I follow him to the music room, sitting against the wall as the band geeks pile in to set up their instruments. When the teacher walks in, everyone takes their seats. She says the name of what I assume is some old composer or something. Without another word, she raises her baton around and the students begin to play. Let me tell you, they sound a lot better than they did when we were in elementary school. I guess these were the ones who had talent. The rest of us sucked ass.

It takes me a few moments to spot Craig, but when I do I stare at him intently. He has his eyes closed and he looks rather peaceful as he plays his instrument.

Halfway through, Jason wanders in and stands near me. Speak of the fucking devil.

I glance at him and say, "Hey, who are you here for?"

"Craig," he says. "We have plans. Woulda been here sooner, but I had detention."

"I see," I murmur. "Craig is pretty talented."

"Yeah, this is the only thing he's really good at. He doesn't even like it that much, though. He probably just sticks with it because he wants to be good at something."

I frown at that. "Then why are you his friend?"

"I hafta be," he says. "Our parents are friends, so I've known him most of my life. If I stop being his friend, then our parents will probably fight and it'll just cause dumb shit that can be avoided. So, it's easier to just be his friend."

"Hm," I muse.

"What's the difference between Craig Tucker and a car?" Jason asks out of the blue. He's smiling wide, like he's trying to keep himself from cracking up.

"I don't know…" I murmur slowly, not quite sure whether or not I want to know the answer. I hate tasteless jokes.

"The car doesn't follow you around after you take it for a ride," he answers with a laugh. "The saddest part is that he's not even, like, one of the nice cars, y'know? He's one of those shitty lemons you find for really cheap and need a lot of repairs before it'll even run properly. Craig is fucked up, man. He has dependence issues. He acts like a loner, but when he latches onto someone it's hard to escape."

"That's really awful…"

"I know! He's like a stray dog," he continues, automatically assuming that I'm sympathizing with his plight when I'm not. "You give him a little attention and he won't stop following you around… It just makes you wanna put him to sleep."

"Is that really how you feel about him?" I ask. It makes me feel incredibly bad for Craig. By what I've read, Craig seems like a sentimental guy – the kind who gets attached to people he lets in. It sucks he ended up getting attached to a piece of shit like Jason.

"He's not a bad guy, but he's definitely an annoying one," he says without an ounce of empathy.

"So, you fucked him?" I ask, surprised he's actually admitting to it so easily. I guess Craig is the only one who wants to keep it a secret.

"Yup," he says carelessly. "I don't even know why."

* * *

I decide not to meet up with Craig since Jason is going to be there. I want to give him his journal back privately so I can talk to him a little bit afterward.

I don't know much about Craig. Bebe is right about that. All I know about him is what I see on a daily basis. He's not particularly tall and he's quite slim. He comes to school in pyjama pants tucked into his winter boots. He wears t-shirts and baggy sweaters under his jacket. His hair is always brushed neatly, though. He has blue eyes that mirror my own. His skin is very pale, much unlike my own. He has no freckles or moles. His skin is unblemished. He wears braces because his teeth are crooked and he got teased pretty bad for it. He's pretty, though. He has soft features for the typical guy. I guess I can understand why Jason, a "straight" guy, would sleep with him.

* * *

At school the following day, Craig is nowhere to be found. He's probably skipping. He skips a lot. He's notorious for it. Since he isn't here, I decide to eat lunch with his friends in his place. I walk alongside Bebe to the lunch table where he sits with his friends.

"Where's Craig today?" I ask, plunking my ass down.

"Who knows?" Clyde muses. "Probably skipping. He's _bad ass_ like that."

"Bad ass?" Jason scoffs. "Yeah, right. He's five foot five."

Clyde snorts. "People forget how tiny Craig is because he's so fucking mean and intimidating."

Jason cackles at that. "He wasn't too intimidating when I had my dick in his ass."

I raise an eyebrow at that, wondering if it's common knowledge within their group of friends that Jason is sticking it to Craig.

Clyde punches him in the shoulder. "He's gonna get mad if he finds out you're telling people that."

"Seriously, man…" I say with a sigh.

Jason continues chortling, like he just told a hilarious joke. "Yeah, I had him on his knees sucking my dick, then I had him on his back _taking_ my dick."

Clyde grimaces. "Man, stop. I can't even picture it."

"When we were done he admitted he had no idea what he was doing," Jason continues. "Not shocking."

"So, Craig was a virgin?" I ask.

Jason nods happily, looking proud.

"I still can't believe he bottomed," Clyde mutters. "He seems too rigid to let someone in like that."

"You guys _need_ to stop talking about this shit," Token cuts in firmly.

"Craig would be upset if he heard you guys talking about him like he's a toy," Token's girlfriend, Nichole, adds.

"I'm not!" Clyde protests.

"You may as well be!" Bebe cuts in, eying her boyfriend. I don't know why they're still together. There must be a lot of love in that relationship. If not, they'd probably be long over.

* * *

I decide to dip out early and just head to Craig's house. I don't really remember where he lives, so I text Bebe. She responds a split second later, giving me his address and then telling me not to overstep my bounds.

I don't bother responding. I shove my phone back into my pocket and continue down the street until I'm in front of the Tucker residence.

I knock on the door and it opens a split second later.

"What?" Craig asks me, rubbing his eyes. It looks like he just woke up. His hair is messy.

I don't say anything. Instead, I just hold up his journal.

Craig sneers at me, quickly grabbing the book from my hands. "I started therapy in the summer and I was told to keep a thought journal," he justifies himself before looking worried. "Uh, you didn't read it, did you?"

"No," I lie. "Don't worry."

"How'd you know it was mine?" he asks.

"Uh…" I pause.

"You did read it," he states, going pink in the face. "Who told you it was me?"

I let out a sigh. "Never mind that. Look, if you're in a relationship that you're spending every day crying about, then I think you need to take a moment to pause and evaluate."

He wrinkles his nose at me, not wanting to hear it. "I'm not in a relationship, you nosy pig-faced fuck."

Charming.

"Yes, you are," I say. "If you're fucking someone, it's still a relationship. It might not be exclusive, but it's a SEXUAL relationship."

Craig doesn't respond to that. Instead, he slams the door right in my face. I hear the click of the lock, so I don't bother trying to open the door. Instead, I decide to just go back to school.

This trip was pretty pointless and didn't go at all like I planned.

* * *

 **2.**

Next week, I decide to come up with a new plan. I don't know what that plan is yet, but I will figure one out.

I get ready for school, throwing on a t-shirt and some jeans. I wear jeans every day. Usually they're the same jeans, but no one really notices and if they do, they don't mention it. Everyone knows I'm not the richest guy in town. Neither is Craig, but at least he has a modest house. I live in a literal crack shack. My parents make meth. We have drunks and junkies and bums crashing in and around our house all the time. It's pretty fucking lame and sometimes they try to pull the moves on me. Really fucking lame.

I catch the bus with Kyle, Eric and Stan. When we hop on, I don't see Craig. Then again, he might've caught a ride with Token.

I sit with Bebe and she gives me a dull look. "Did you do as I asked?"

"No," I say flat-out.

She lets out a sigh. "Didn't think so."

When we arrive at school, I assume that I'm right about Craig getting a drive since he's standing in front of his locker.

With Bebe tagging behind me, we approach him.

"Hey, babe," she greets him fondly. "How are you?"

"Fine," he answers flatly.

"All right," she says. "Well, I'll leave you two to talk."

With that, she walks off and me and Craig and left alone. He turns around expectantly, crossing his arms and eying me with distaste.

"I'm sorry I read your diary," I say.

"Journal," he corrects.

"Same thing," I insist. "Look, it's really freaking me out… You wrote about some pretty heavy shit."

He glances off into space and leans against his locker. "That's why you shouldn't have fucking read it. It's not any of your damn business. It's for my eyes and my therapist's eyes ONLY. Not yours."

"I know…" I relent.

"Don't tell your friends about any of it. I don't think Cartman needs any more ammo than he already has."

"I won't," I promise, "but… I do think you need some kind of support system."

"Ugghhh," he groans, craning his neck before snapping it back and staring at me. "Look, you're annoying. Stop. It's bad enough that you even know this shit. Just pretend you never read it."

"I can't do that," I say.

"It's NONE of your business!" he hisses, raising his voice. His cheeks are red. He's probably embarrassed. I guess I can't blame him for that.

"Please, just let me help," I say quietly.

"No," he says. He turns around, slamming his locker shut before shoving past me.

* * *

My first class is Art. I sit with Bebe and she immediately asks if my talk with Craig went the way I wanted it to. I tell her it obviously didn't, though I'm sure she already knew that much.

"What's wrong with him?" I pry.

We're painting. Bebe is working on a silhouette of a girl in front of an orange sunset. I'm making something a little more abstract since I have no skills when it comes to anatomy.

"He's hard on himself because he's adopted," Bebe explains. "His birth parents died and I think he's still somehow trying to impress them even though they're gone."

"Oh," I murmur. "That's sad…"

"One time Cartman made him cry," Bebe says. "He made a game out of it. He just kept torturing him and throwing his insecurities in his face for months 'til he cracked wide open in front of half the sociology class."

"Damn," I say sadly. I never took that class, so I guess I missed the action. "What was Cartman saying?"

"He was making fun of Craig's teeth a lot," she starts. "When he eventually got braces, Cartman pretty much knew what he was saying was working. When he found out Craig was adopted, he used that as even heftier ammo. He just told Craig that his parents didn't want him and all this BS. He was pretty awful. Anyway, one day Craig walked into class and Cartman started in on another tirade. I guess Craig couldn't take anymore because he just started crying."

"Aw, man," I say piteously. "Seriously?"

"Mhm," Bebe mumbles. "I hate Cartman so much. He's so evil."

"Yeah, he is," I agree with a sigh.

"I don't know what sick sense of pleasure he gets out of kicking someone who is already down," she says tersely.

"Because he's a sadist," I respond simply.

* * *

I let things sit for a while, even though it's still driving me nuts. I guess Craig is right. This isn't any of my business and I just need to stop. I can't help someone who doesn't want help.

During my free period, I sit on the stairway behind the school and smoke a cigarette. I hear the door open and when I glance behind me, I see Craig.

"This isn't your free period," I say.

"I'm skipping," he responds, sitting down next to me. "Can I have one of those?"

I nod, pulling another one out and handing it to him. He puts it between his lips and inhales as I light it. "Since when do you smoke?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says.

I raise an eyebrow at that and take the cigarette from between his lips. "I don't want to be responsible for your bad habits."

He laughs at me and I see the braces in his teeth and the dimples in his cheeks. "I've smoked before," he informs me, taking the cigarette back.

I eye him critically. "Why aren't you telling me to fuck off?"

He shrugs. "No reason to. You haven't been bothering me lately. You finally left me alone."

"Hm," I muse. "I still think your relationship is problematic."

"Well, that's not yours to decide," he murmurs. "It's mine and I don't care if it's problematic…"

"You're not supposed to bleed," I say sadly.

Craig clicks his tongue. "Shut up, you're going to start annoying me again! You're the one being problematic by not minding your own damn business."

After finishing my cigarette, I toss it into a snow bank and then stand up. "I can't help it. It's hard to ignore stuff like this."

He stands up alongside me, finishing off his cigarette before tossing it as well. "You're an idiot."

"Your not-boyfriend's dad isn't supposed to try and feel you up…"

He spins around and shoves me. "WHY won't you SHUT UP?" he shouts angrily.

I stumble slightly, but I don't fall. "Because I like you," I decide to tell him.

He pauses, softening noticeably. "What?"

"I like you," I say again.

"Since when?"

"Since I found your journal, I guess," I admit.

"Why, then?"

"I guess I got to see your sensitive side," I say. "It made me want to get to know you… and I know it sounds dumb, but I also want to help you."

"You can't save people," he murmurs, "and, for the record, I don't even need to be saved. I know what I'm doing."

I scoff at that. "Yeah, _right_."

"You don't know what's good for me, _McCormick_!" he snaps, growing irritated with me all over again. "Only I know what's good for me! To say otherwise is pretty fucked up."

I guess he has a point. I still don't really know him. I don't know what's best for him… but I do know that he's probably hurting and if this thing keeps up with Jason, he'll probably be hurting a lot worse. I wish I could just let things go, but I can't.

"How long has it been?" I ask out of the blue. "How long has it been since you and Jason started doing whatever it is you're doing."

He shrugs. "Six or seven months…"

"And you still sleep with him?"

"Yeah… Well, we mostly do other things…"

"Still sexual stuff, though, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbles.

"Why?" I ask. "Do you hope he'll somehow eventually return the feelings you have for him? Or do you just feel trapped?"

"I don't really know what I feel for him," Craig admits in a quiet murmur. "I guess since he's my first I just want him to be my last… but that's hardly realistic. People don't often stay with the person they lose their virginity to." He pauses and then asks, "Who'd you lose your virginity to?"

"Tammy," I say. "My ex-girlfriend."

"Why'd you break up?"

"I wanted to explore my sexuality a bit," I admit with a chuckle. "She didn't want to stay with me if I was going to be with guys, though she couldn't really give me what I was looking for. We parted civilly."

"So… what are you, then?" Craig pries.

"I like boys, I like girls," I start, shrugging. "I'm sixteen, so I'm shallow. If you're hot, I'm down."

Craig looks bemused. "So, you think I'm hot?"

"Yeah, you're hot," I say with a laugh, "but I like you for other reasons, too… less shallow reasons."

He smiles faintly. "Okay. You're nice, McCormick."

With that, he wanders back inside, leaving me to contemplate whether or not his comment was sincere. With him, I'll probably never know.

* * *

 **3.**

So, time moves forward. I try not to think about Craig since he's preoccupied, but it's hard not to.

It's none of my business, it's none of my business, it's none of my fucking business. I have to constantly remind myself of that. I'm the kind of person who likes to make everything my business, even when I have no right.

"What's on your mind?" Bebe asks me next time we're in art class together.

"Nothin'," I respond simply, trying to stay focused on my painting.

"Suuure," she says, not believing me for a second.

"I'm trying not to be so pushy," I confess. "I know I'm nosy and I can be pretty annoying sometimes, especially when something is bothering me. If something isn't my business, I'll try to make it my business."

"Yeah, I know," Bebe snorts. "You've always been that way. Did Craig call you on it or something?"

"Or something," I murmur.

"Honestly, I don't even think he likes Jason as a person," Bebe muses. "I think he just likes the idea of Jason as a guy who _could_ take care of him… though he does the opposite. I think Craig is the kind of guy who will grow attached to people… and in this case, he grew attached to Jason because Jason is giving him attention."

"Yeah," I agree. "I thought that, too."

It makes me feel so fucking bad for him.

"He doesn't act like it, but he's sentimental," Bebe continues with a shrug. "Craig was a virgin before Jason. I don't think he even kissed anyone before that."

"Damn," I say sadly.

Craig's life seems so fucking depressing. I don't know why he won't let himself have anything better.

It's weird. I thought I knew him. Not well, of course… but I thought I had a solid idea of what kind of guy he was. I thought he was stoic, independent, serious, with no sense of humour. I thought he'd be dominant and controlling… but he's none of that. He's a bit of an ass, but that's about it. He's dependent and submissive as hell, too.

I don't get how he can so easily submit to someone who treats him like shit. I could never find it in myself to do that. I'd just end up hating myself.

Then again, maybe Craig does hate himself.

I can't help but find that sad.

* * *

After school, everyone starts getting rowdy at the bus stops.

"What the fuck is going on?" I ask when I see Eric running towards me.

"Craig got smacked," he says giddily. "There's probably gonna be a fight."

"Shit," I hiss to myself.

"Craig can't fight for shit," Eric snorts. "He's gonna get his sorry ass kicked."

I shove past him and head towards the circular crowd of teenagers on the side of the school building. I squeeze through, pushing and shoving until I have a decent view.

What I see isn't what I expected. There isn't a fight. They're just standing there, facing one another. Neither of them is talking. No arguing. Nothing…

But the bright, red mark on Craig's cheek explains why everyone thinks they're going to start beating on each other.

Before I can insert myself into the situation and try to put a stop to things, the principal comes stomping out of the building.

Damn, Craig is gonna get in some deep shit for this. He's always in detention. The last thing he needs is another strike on his scoreboard. They probably won't believe him even if he says he didn't throw any hits. He has a pretty sore reputation at this school.

Both Craig and Jason are dragged back into the building. Their parents will probably be called and they'll either be suspended or have a fuck-ton of detentions in their future.

"What the fuck was that all about?" a voice next to me asks.

I glance to the side and see Red. "I don't fucking know," I mutter. "He's your cousin, not mine."

She snorts at that. "Yeah, but it isn't like he actually talks to me or acknowledges my existence. I don't even try anymore. I don't think anyone does."

And maybe that's the damn problem. He feels like Jason is his only option. He's probably pretty lonely.

"That's kind of sad, you know," I tell her.

"A person can only take so much," she murmurs. "He's like… an emotional vampire. He sucks the life out of the room. I think finding out he was adopted messed him up."

"Damn," I murmur. "Poor fucker."

* * *

I decide to visit Craig the following evening since it's Saturday. His mom answers the door, letting me in and telling me Craig is in his room.

"He's grounded," she adds. "So he can't leave the house."

"Okay," I nod. When I get upstairs, I see Craig on his bed, looking like he's about to take a nap.

"Hey," I say.

He stares at me. "Why are you here?" he asks, sitting up.

I move closer and see that there's a slight bruise on Craig's cheek. I guess Jason didn't hit as hard as he could have, not that it fucking matters.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," he murmurs. "I'm going to sleep."

"Can I come back later?"

"If you want to, I guess…"

"I want to," I tell him decidedly.

* * *

I return around 6PM. There are no cars in the driveway, so his parents are probably gone out or at work. I know that Laura is a nurse, so she works some shitty night hours. Thomas, on the other hand, owns a bar with his brother. More shitty hours. I guess that's also why he had a hard time trying to quit drinking. Hopefully he won't relapse.

I knock on the door and Craig's sister, Ruby, lets me in.

"He's upstairs," she says, sounding bored.

I thank her and then head upstairs. I let myself in without knocking, swinging open the door. The lights are on this time. He's sitting on his bed, still wearing his pajamas. There's a book in his hand and glasses low on his nose.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey," he responds, looking up at me. He discards his book, setting it on his nightstand and then patting the spot on the bed next to him.

"I didn't know you wore glasses," I tell him.

He shrugs. "Glasses, braces, band… I'm a nerd, I guess."

I smile slightly. "That's okay."

I join him on the bed and before I can get another word out, he leans forward and pushes his lips against mine.

I want to stop and ask him why, but I don't. Instead, I open my mouth, inviting him in. I've wanted to do this for a while, but the timing doesn't seem right.

When he pulls away, he stares at me with a critical look. "You're going to fuck me, aren't you?" he asks.

"If you want me," I tell him.

"I want you," he says.

* * *

We did it with the door open. I'm glad his parents aren't home. I'm just hoping Ruby didn't walk past and see us going at it like horny rabbits.

"You were right, you know," he murmurs out of the blue. "Jason is an asshole."

"Well, yeah…" I agree. "He fucking hit you… I can't believe he'd do that to someone he was sleeping with. He's real shit. He probably doesn't think it was a big deal because you're both guys or whatever… but it _is_ a big deal."

Craig shrugs and stretches his legs out in front of him. We're sitting on the bed and the sun is down by now. There's no light coming in through the windows.

"I latch onto people," he says. "I need to stop doing that. I'm just worried I'll be abandoned."

"I get it," I tell him.

"Do you?"

"Maybe not in the exact way you do, but yeah… I get it," I say. "No one wants to be left out or lonely or forgotten."

After a moment, he gets up and puts his pajama pants back on before walking towards his desk. As he does so, I follow his motion and put my clothes back on – jeans and my tee. It's awkward when you're the only naked one in the room.

Craig opens the first drawer and digs out a book I immediately recognize as the journal. He hands it to me and saying, "Here."

I take it, giving him a questioning look.

"Read it," he instructs.

"Am I allowed?"

He nods his head. "I'm _telling_ you that you can, so just do it before I change my mind."

I frown, but I relent nonetheless because I do want to know what's been going on in his head. I flip open the book, leafing until I get to the place where I left off. Then I begin to read his latest entries –

 _January 26_

 _My birthday was dull. I forgot to hide it on Facebook, so everyone remembered. I spent most of the day avoiding people. Jason accompanied me. Sometimes I think he likes me, but then I realize he's just playing with me so I'll keep sucking his dick. And I do, because I'm an idiot._

 _February 12_

 _Bebe asked me if I have any self-respect. I said probably not and she told me that she still respected me, even if I didn't respect myself. Then I cried about it because I'm a fucking baby._

 _February 25_

 _Sometimes I wonder if Jason realizes how shitty he makes me feel. He might not even do it on purpose. It might just be the kind of person he is. Can I blame him for that? I'd feel stupid if I asked him to change and I don't think he'd ever do it for me._

 _March 3_

 _If we're not actually in a relationship, I don't want to call it abuse. I know he's a piece of shit, but that's just how he is. I know we're not going to last. I've been really upset lately and I had to tell my mom what I've been doing. I've been putting off giving her the details since she found my bed sheets in the trash. She was pretty upset and knowing who I was doing it with had her even more upset. Our parents are friends, but my mom doesn't like Jason and she thinks I deserve better… but I don't think I deserve better. Maybe that's what it comes down to. I asked Jason if he liked me and he said no. Then I asked him why we did this and he said he didn't know. I don't know, either. I don't know how I feel about him and I don't know how I feel about myself. All I know if that I feel like shit lately._

 _People accept what they think they deserve, right? And when it doesn't come their way, they do it to themselves._

 _March 19_

 _A bunch of us got drunk at Clyde's house. Me and Jason went into the laundry room and started screwing around and then Clyde walked in and got angry._

 _April 1_

 _I forgot what day it was. Jason showed me an internet screamer and I cried. He thought that was pretty funny._

 _April 21_

 _I keep saying that if things get too bad, I'll leave, but I don't even know how to end things at this point. Things are already bad. If he takes things up a notch I'll stop._

"Man," I mumble when I'm finished reading it. I close the book and hand it back to him.

"So…?"

I say, "Relationships of any sort can be abusive, not just romantic. With Jason, you had an abusive friendship. I'm sorry he hit you."

Craig lets out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, so am I… That is real shitty, especially since he did it in front of everyone like that. People are asking me why didn't hit him back…"

"Why didn't you?" I ask, wondering if he'll get mad at the question.

He lets out a sigh, but remains calm. "I couldn't. I was so taken aback. I felt so damn weak in that moment. I just wanted to sink into the ground and disappear."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"I need to end things with him," he finishes.

I nod my head. "For your own sake…"

"And for my parents, too," he adds. "I feel like I'm driving them up the wall. Same with Ruby and Clyde and Token and Nichole and Bebe. Bebe always gives me this sad, piteous look. I hate it so much."

"She's pretty compassionate and she cares about you a lot. So do your other friends. So do your parents. I'm sure your sister does, too."

He snorts at that. "Yeah… I don't think I'm going to keep that journal anymore. I might just get a new one. All of this is literally just shit about Jason and it's getting pathetically embarrassing to keep having to show this to my therapist. It's basically a chronology of my most humiliating moments."

"Dude, what's wrong with you?" I ask. "No offence…"

He rolls his eyes at that. "I have anxiety…"

"You need someone who will treat you good," I say.

He smiles faintly. "Like you, y'mean?"

"Well…" I trail off and shrug. "Like… someone nice."

"Like you?" he asks again.

I smile sheepishly. "Yeah, okay, like me… but only if you want me."

"I already told you I did," he points out. "You're nice and that's something I'm not used to." A pause. "I don't know how I'll end it with him, to be honest. I can't really stand up for myself around him…"

"Want me to come?" I offer.

He wrinkles his nose. "No… Plus, I can't leave the house… My parents grounded me and I was suspended. I'm not allowed to return 'til next week."

"Do it on Facebook," I suggest.

"Isn't that a pretty shitty thing to do?" he asks, looking at me with an unsure expression.

I shrug. "Who cares? He's a shitty person. Plus, you guys aren't technically dating, right?"

"Right," he mumbles. He slumps forward and sighs before sitting up straight and getting off the bed. He walks back towards his desk and unplugs his laptop, bringing it with him back onto the mattress. "Here we go, I guess."

He opens it and signs onto Facebook, opening his messages and clicking on Jason's name. I shift away and he stops me.

"You can read over my shoulder, it's okay," he says knowingly.

"If you're sure…?"

"I am. It's fine."

 _CRAIG: Hey, I want to talk about something._

After ten or so minutes, Jason finally responds.

 _JASON: What now?_

Ouch, rude.

 _CRAIG: I don't wanna fuck anymore. You hit me. That's not okay.  
JASON: K whatever.  
CRAIG: Just like that?  
JASON: Ya idc.  
CRAIG: Oh.  
JASON: Lol did you think I would?  
CRAIG: Not really.  
JASON: Lol you're too clingy anyway.  
CRAIG: You knew that before we slept together. You should've known what you were getting into.  
JASON: A hole is a hole.  
CRAIG: Classy.  
JASON: Not like you care about being classy.  
CRAIG: Guess not. I was with you after all.  
JASON: Zing. Rude. Where is all this coming from?  
CRAIG: Found someone better.  
JASON: Doubt that lol.  
CRAIG: Anyway, bye.  
JASON: See you at school next week. _

"He's saying that to bug me," Craig mutters. "He'll see me at school and probably taunt me until he gets bored of it."

"What a dick," I say. "If he gives you any trouble, tell me."

"What'll you do about it?" Craig snorts. "You're almost as bony as I am."

"You're skinny, but not scrawny," I tell him. "Plus, I've got hidden muscle. I bet I could take him."

Craig rolls his eyes. "Sorry, but I don't think so. He lifts. He's really fucking strong. He used to move me around like I weighed five pounds…" He pauses and smiles faintly. "But, hey, I guess it's the thought that counts. So, thanks for sticking up for me."

"Of course," I say.

"Tell me if you ever need space," he adds. "I can get kind of overwhelming at times. I'm, uh… high maintenance according to Jason."

I wrinkle my nose at that. "He's a douche, man… Fuck 'im."

"Already did," Craig says, making a joke at his own expense.

I frown at that. "I'm really sorry, dude. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty low," he admits. "I'll probably cry about it later on when you leave."

"You can cry about it now," I tell him.

"I have, like, a very hard time crying in front of people," he says. "I mean, I know I've done it before… but it's just when I'm really pushed over the edge."

"And you're not now?"

He shrugs. "I feel kind of numb, honestly. I'm sure it'll set in later on, though, and I'll feel even shittier."

I nod my head. "Think he'll leave you alone?"

"Eventually," Craig says, shrugging again. "He doesn't care about me at all. If I'm not into it anymore, maybe he won't try to mess with me."

"Yeah, hopefully…" I offer.

* * *

 **4.**

When Craig returns to school, people ask him about Jason. He ignores everyone, not wanting to get into it with people who only care about the drama of it all.

Craig has been pretty down – understandably so. I'd probably feel just as upset if I were in his shoes.

Things turn even sourer when Jason reveals they were fucking the entire damn time. Craig is visibly ashamed and humiliated and for some fucking reason people aren't ragging on Jason for being blatantly abusive.

" _Boys will be boys."_

Fuck that. That's the weakest excuse I've ever heard in my life.

Craig walks right out of the building and off the school property. I follow him.

"Craig…?" I say his name.

He spins around and throws himself at me. We kiss sloppily on the sidewalk, but then I realize he's crying and I push him away.

"Dude… what the fuck?" I ask.

"Isn't this the part where you 'comfort' me?" he bites out, swiping at his cheeks.

I feel myself frown at that. "I'm not going to be that guy. I don't care if Jason was like that. I'm _not_ like that."

He sniffles loudly and then turns away, continuing to walk down the street. I follow him, sidling up next to him. For a few minutes, he's quiet. Then he says, "I lied, y'know…"

"About what?" I ask.

He lets out a breath. "Well, I didn't lie… I just didn't tell you the whole truth. I do have anxiety – generalized anxiety disorder – but I'm also depressed."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, trying not to sound piteous.

He scoffs at me, clearly sensing the sympathy. "Because of THAT. I didn't want to sound like I have a million issues… even though I basically do."

"Well, you know I don't mind that," I tell him sincerely. "I'm not going to get all freaked out or anything. I mean, I like you. That isn't going to change. I liked you before I knew and I like you know that I know."

"Hm…" he muses. "Y'know, the only reason I slept with Jason is because of my anxiety. We were at a party and I got really overwhelmed and he said he'd take me home. I invited him in and then, well, you know the rest… It makes me fucking crazy sometimes. I just didn't want to be alone and I wanted him to stay because he was familiar, so…" He pauses and sighs. "I really fucking wish someone else took me home. Literally anyone else would have been better than him. Then maybe this wouldn't have happened… or it would have happened differently."

"I'm sorry," I say.

He rolls his eyes at me. "Stop fucking saying you're sorry. It gets old."

I hold up my hands. "All right, all right."

"I'm SO fucking humiliated...!" he seethes.

"Yeah," I whisper. "Jason is a jackass."

"Y'know, Clyde told me this would happen," he mutters. "So did Bebe. So did Token. So did Nichole. So did my fucking cousin. So did my parents. So did my sister… So did you."

"Don't blame yourself," I try to reason. "People like Jason are manipulative."

"The thing is… he wasn't," Craig murmurs. "There was no gas lighting. He never justified himself. He didn't do anything to make me want to stay. He just treated me like crap all the time. I don't know why I always slept with him. I must just hate myself."

"Do you?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't feel like I hate myself. I just feel like I need to work on myself. Like… I should expect better things. I shouldn't be so negative. People always tell me that and it's annoying as hell, but they're probably right."

"A lot of people don't get it," I say.

"Jason always left when I'd start to mope," he adds. "He'd always tell me I'm annoying."

"Well, I won't do that," I tell him. "Unless you want me to."

"Even if I say it, I might not actually want you to leave," he says with a bitter laugh. "Yet I'll still expect you to be able to differentiate what I want. I know that sounds dumb, but… I can be pretty unreasonable. I feel like that's why all my friends leave me alone now. They're kind of waiting for me to stop being such a little asshole."

"That's not your fault, though…" I try to reassure him. "Plus you seem aware of all these things."

"I am, I just need to learn how to manage better," he murmurs. "That's why I'm in therapy, I guess."

"These things take time," I say.

"Too much…" he mutters.

* * *

When we get back to Craig's house, he invites me in and we watch television for an hour. Then he makes lunch.

"I didn't know you cooked," I say.

"I can do lots of things," he tells me.

It makes me think about when Jason called him talentless. I guess Craig just isn't one to show off his talents. He keeps to himself. He's always been that way. He likes to keep his private life private. That's probably why Jason decided to spill the beans.

"Are you okay?" I pry out of the blue.

"Fine," he says simply.

"So, how'd you learn how to cook?" I ask him, changing the subject.

"My parents aren't home much," he explains. "Since I'm the oldest, I kind of got stuck babysitting a lot when Ruby was younger. Before I was old enough, we had other babysitters. I'd cook with them and that's kind of how I learned."

"That's cool," I say. "I can't cook for shit, even though I take Home Ec. Every time we're paired up to cook, no one lets me touch any of the ingredients."

"Heh…" he snickers. "I'm pretty good at that kind of stuff – cooking, sewing, whatever else… but I never took Home Ec."

"I got ripped on for taking that course," I say with a laugh.

He smiles slightly. "Yeah, that's why I didn't take it."

I chuckle. "All the boys took Shop and all the girls took Home Ec. It spread out more when we got to high school, though. More boys took Home Ec and more girls took Shop."

"That's the way it should be," Craig says.

"I agree."

I watch him cook. He lets me chop vegetables, but that's about it. I don't complain, though. At least it's more than my Home Ec team allows me to do.

"You surprise me, y'know," I say out of the blue. "You're not at all like I used to think."

"Is that a good thing?" Craig wonders.

"Yeah," I promise.

"What did you expect me to be?"

"Quiet and cold," I start. "I guess I thought you'd be the type of guy who could hold a mean grudge, but you forgive easily. Sure, you act out sometimes but I don't think you ever mean any of it. You're a nice guy. I like being around you."

"Aw," Craig coos with blatant cynicism. "How sentimental."

"Hey, I'm trying to be cute," I say.

"You are," Craig assures me, smiling faintly before starting to frown again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask.

He lets out a sigh. "I'm trying to practise radical acceptance… It is what it is and I can't change what has already happened. Everyone knows now, right? Well, the people who matter already knew. I guess that everyone else knowing doesn't have to affect me. It's not the end of the world… Besides, everyone knows who is fucking who at school. Just because I was getting it up the butt by a guy, doesn't make it any different."

"That's true," I say. "It's cool you can look at it like that."

He snorts. "Yeah, well… It's hard. I feel like I just keep screwing myself over."

"You're not," I insist.

"Fuck Jason," he mumbles. "He's a piece of shit."

"Yeah, he is," I agree without hesitance.

* * *

After eating, we head up to his room, but we don't screw around. Instead, we just talk some more.

"Sorry I tried to manipulate you earlier," he apologizes.

"What do you mean?" I ask, unable to recall it.

"When I asked you to 'comfort' me," he points out, grimacing. "I was being an ass."

"Oh," I murmur, shrugging. "It's okay. You were upset."

"I know you're not that kind of guy," he adds. "Sorry."

"It's okay, dude," I promise.

"You still like me, huh?"

"Of course!" I chuckle.

He smiles slightly. "Then ask me to be your boyfriend."

"You want to make it official?" I ask, mildly surprised.

"I don't think we're rushing it," he says, pausing. "Well, maybe we were… but I don't think we are now. I mean, we DID sleep together."

"Do you regret it?"

"Nah. Do you?"

"Nah," I echo. "So, uh… Shit, I've never done this before," I admit, not wanting to sound totally lame as fuck.

He snorts. "Me, neither."

"So, go with me?" I ask.

"Okay, I'll _go_ with you," he says, visibly humoured. He smiles. He looks sweet when he smiles, like all the coldness in his gaze completely melts away. "I didn't think I'd end up in a relationship in high school. I kind of just assumed I'd be alone."

"No one is alone forever," I say. "Well, unless they wanna be. Sometimes it just takes time. It usually happens when you least expect it and in ways you least expect."

"I guess that's true," he agrees. "Maybe there's one good thing that came out of my mess with Jason – I got to know you."

"Aw," I coo. "So cute."

He nudges me. "Shh… I'm being serious."

I smile at him. "I know. I'm happy you can look at it like that. It means a lot to me. I'm glad I picked up your journal. I'm still sorry I read it like a nosy little butthole, but… You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know," he chuckles.

And it's true. I guess it's weird the way things happen sometimes, but I can't say that I regret any of it.

We'll deal with everything else as it comes. For now, I'm not going to dwell. For Craig's sake, I hope he won't either.

* * *

I spend the rest of the night hanging out with Craig. I managed to get a few laughs out of him, too. It's quickly becoming one of my favourite sounds.

As I walk home, I feel myself begin to smile again.

I think things are gonna be all right this time.

.

.

.

 **Epilogue.**

And I was right.

Things ARE all right. So all right that we're graduating this month.

Jason left Craig alone… eventually. Now it's something Craig doesn't really think about much. Time really flies. Soon it will be summer and then summer will be over and everyone will begin to leave this little town.

I'm not leaving, though. I'm staying right here. I got a job at a call center last month. I plan on keeping it. Craig isn't leaving, either. He got a job working as a waiter at a fancy uptown restaurant. He gets really good tips. I think that kind of job suits him perfectly.

He once asked me if I was content spending my life in a town like this. I said I didn't mind because I don't. I don't care where I am. It's more about who I'm with. I know that a lot of my friends are leaving, but they'll be back. South Park has a way of calling everyone who leaves back. Nobody really stays gone. I'm not sure if it's a good thing, a bad thing, or if it's just kind of sad.

My brother moved out last month. He got an apartment with his girlfriend, Shelly Marsh. I think they're a funny couple, but I guess I can see them together. She probably keeps him in shape and when he starts to be an idiot, she cracks the whip.

I want to move out someday, too. I'm going to make that my goal.

"Almost done?" Craig asks me.

We're sitting in the school library working on our final essays for English class.

"Almost," I say.

After this, the only thing we will have to do is study for exams. Craig says he isn't going to bother, but he said he'd help me study. I think he's secretly a genius because one thing I learned about him is that he never studies. He doesn't seem to try at all which is why he's a pretty average student, but if he did try he'd probably get straight A's. He says it doesn't matter because he doesn't want to go to university.

We've been dating for two years.

I'm pretty in love with him by now and I make sure to say it on a regular basis. He always says it back, so I guess the feeling is mutual.

I don't really know what the future will hold, but I like imagining that me and Craig will be end-game. I'd like to settle down with him, get a place, get a dog or a cat, maybe even adopt a kid someday. I know we're only eighteen, but hey, the future is now.

"Kenny?" I hear.

"Mm?" I question.

"Stop zoning out," Craig says.

I let out a little laugh. "Sorry."

"Finish your paper," he adds. "Then we can go to your house and do something fun."

"Ooooh, I like the sound of that," I say with a grin.

 **Fin.**


End file.
